Because I am, apparently, completely insane I have decided to join National Blog Posting Month. Starting today. I fully blame Rebecca at Provocation of Mind. She held on by tooth and nail, managing to write each day for all 30 days and did a fine job of it too. I figure how hard can it be?

Famous last words, anyone?

Anyway, I’ve got about 2 hours to post for my first day of NaBloPoMo without making a complete cockup of the first day. I do like to make a good impression, you know.

In the fervor of getting the post out, I sat down to type and drew a blank for ten minutes about what to write for today’s post. So, I fell back on the old standby: the theme for the month. Which, for May, is “sweet.”


A word that totally does not describe me or anything about me. It does, however, describe my tea, my 4 year old, and the donut I snuck earlier this afternoon. But not me.

I’m more of an irascible, glass half empty, Oscar-the-grouch-before-my-first-cup-of-coffee kind of person. With pink socks.

And yet I manage to have a family that loves me, friends who think I’m worth hanging out with, and am on speaking terms with all my relatives (even the weird ones). Who appreciate the fact that I wear pink socks.

However, they do not think of me as sweet either. I asked my hubs if he thought I was sweet and he replied a bit hesitantly, “Well, you’re cute.”

Which, of course, translates from man-speak into normal English as “I don’t feel like sleeping in the living room tonight so I’ll say something that may make you happy.” Which is nice, I guess, but reinforces the evidence that I am not sweet. And I have to be humored, apparently, as well.

But I forgive him since he’s the one who bought me pink socks for my birthday.

In the long run being sweet probably isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I mean, who would want kittens and rainbows following you around all the time even if you do wear fabulous pink socks, right?

Yeah. That’s what I thought too.